


You Composed the Cadence of my Heart

by SidheLives



Series: We'll Find Our Way With Only The Stars to Guide Us [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Baby Gay Bethany Hawke, Bethany and Carver Hawke Live, Bisexual Character, Caring, Chantry Sex (Dragon Age), Circle Mage Bethany Hawke, F/F, First Time, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Long-Distance Relationship, Reunions, Romance, Romantic Gestures, Sapphic Sweetness, Templar Carver Hawke, The Chantry (Dragon Age), Yes the old friend is Leliana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidheLives/pseuds/SidheLives
Summary: "Hey, you, mage," the Templar called to her. "Clear out.""That isn't necessary." The woman spoke, voice velvety and soft. Bethany's heart nearly stopped. She knew that voice, and it was decidedly not that of a priest. "She can remain as I perform the blessing. Now please, leave me to my work."The loud stomping and clanging of iron boots signaled the departure of the Templars, but Bethany held her breath, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped tightly against her brow until the sound faded into nothing. Then she sprang to her feet, fearing she had misheard or misremembered, that her hope was a lie based on longing."Hello, Sweetness." Isabela's shapely lips curled into a smug smirk. "It's been a while."*Written for Fen'Harem's Femslash February 2021
Relationships: Bethany Hawke/Isabela
Series: We'll Find Our Way With Only The Stars to Guide Us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188074
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5
Collections: Fen'Harem's Femslash February 2021





	You Composed the Cadence of my Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hezjena2023](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hezjena2023/gifts).



> _Who knows me as You do?  
>  You have been there since before my first breath.  
> You have seen me when no other would recognize my face.  
> You composed the cadence of my heart._  
> -Canticle of Trials 1:11

The chapel in the tower bore very little resemblance to the Chantry in Lothering, but it filled Bethany with the same sense of calm as that fondly remembered building. 

The chapel was small and stone and as far removed from the tower activity as it could be while still on the island. It was nearly always empty. 

Bethany found it sad that so many had lost their faith: when she had first come to the tower there had always been a few parishioners in attendance, but as the years had passed and the world had changed, they had slowly dissipated until it was only her, sitting alone on a pew for several hours one evening a week. The routine was as old as her tenure as a Harrowed mage, and while life in the tower had been altered by events outside of it, that had not. 

Even the Templars shied away from the warm light of the devotional candles and the brilliantly painted triptych depicting Andraste being put to the flame. A fact that both troubled Bethany and granted her great relief, because it was the one place she could not feel their suspicious eyes upon her.

With a sigh, she relaxed into one of the pews and pulled from her pocket a bundle of heavily creased papers. Under the understanding gaze of the Maker's Bride, Bethany slowly unfolded the letters one by one, and read them over again. She had read them hundreds of times, she knew the words by heart, but seeing the words, imagining Isabela putting quill to paper and writing them for her, was comforting. She had told Isabela she would wait for her, wait for a time when she could be free of the thick walls and oppressive glares and they could be together. The letters made the waiting easier.

A sound in the corridor behind her made Bethany jump and she hastily folded the letters and slid the precious bundle into her pocket again. The sound was of heavy boots, and she did her best to calm her racing heart as they approached, folding her hands and bowing her head in prayer.

"Here is the Chapel, Revered Mother, as you requested."

Bethany's head shot up. That was Carver's voice. She looked back over her shoulder to see his short-cropped hair peeking from between the massive pauldrons of his Templar armor. He was flanked by another Templar and between them stood a woman dressed in the customary white and red garb of the Chantry, including the impressive headpiece that marked her as a Revered Mother. She saw the second Templar notice her and swiveled back around, returning to her feigned prayer with her heart pounding in her throat.

"Hey, you, mage," he called to her. "Clear out."

"That isn't necessary." The woman spoke, voice velvety and soft. Bethany's heart nearly stopped. She knew that voice, and it was decidedly not that of a priest. "She can remain as I perform the blessing. As long as she can remain quiet while I work."

Silence followed this statement and Bethany belatedly realized that she was meant to respond. "Yes," she squeaked. "I can be quiet."

"You see, Sers? She won't be any trouble. Now please, leave me to my work."

"As you say, Revered Mother," Carver replied. "We will keep the halls clear until you have finished, as ordered."

"Thank you graciously, Sers. Blessings of the Maker go with you."

The loud stomping and clanging of iron boots signaled the departure of the Templars, but Bethany held her breath, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped tightly against her brow until the sound faded into nothing. Then she sprang to her feet, fearing she had misheard or misremembered, that her hope was a lie based on longing.

"Hello, Sweetness." Isabela's shapely lips curled into a smug smirk. "It's been a while."

Bethany, tears flooding her eyes, threw herself against Isabela's chest, dislodging the mitre from her head to topple to the floor with a dull thump. She wound her arms tight around the woman's back, gripping as hard as she could to help confirm that she wasn't dreaming.

"Hey!" Isabela cried in surprise, then continued softer as she stroked Bethany's hair. "Hey, hey, it's okay."

"Am I dead? Or dreaming?" Bethany looked into Isabela's eyes with tear-stained cheeks. "How are you here?"

"No to both." Isabela smiled warmly and cradled Bethany's face in her hands, using her thumbs to wipe her cheeks. "I'm really here. Got a favor from an old friend."

"But why?" The feel of Isabela's hands again her skin was heavenly, like silk and velvet rolled into one, so much better than she had imagined lying alone in her dormitory cot.

Isabela laughed, a sound that rolled up her throat like a cat's purr. "Why? Sweetness, to see you of course. Your sister said I couldn't sneak you away until I had a boat, but she didn't say anything about not sneaking in for a visit."

Bethany stared at her, lips parted in awe. It was reckless, in the same way Carver joining the Templars after her apprehension was reckless. It was the kind of self-disregarding risk that made Bethany's chest feel tight and tears threaten to overflow her eyes once again.

"I love you." Saying the words aloud at last felt like taking a clear lungful of air after nearly drowning. Relief and exhilaration and a light-headed feeling of joy spilled out with them, and her threatening tears spilled over.

Isabela sighed and her eyes softened and grew wet. "It sounds even better from your beautiful lips than it looked on paper," she breathed. Her long eyelashes fluttered low and she kissed the salt tears from Bethany's cheeks, each press of her lips soft and sweet like the first touch of spring. She pressed her forehead to Bethany's and sighed again, fingertips gently massaging the skin behind her ears. "I love you, too."

The air around them seemed to thin and Bethany felt time slow as Isabela adjusted the angle of her head, her nose softly brushing along the side of hers, then their lips came together and Bethany dissolved into the sensuous cradle of Isabela's kiss.

How many nights had she lain awake imagining this moment? Bethany couldn't count them. None of her fantasies did justice to the perfection of reality. Surrounded by golden candlelight, the smell of smoke and sea salt, Isabela's calloused yet soft hands caressing her cheekbones, and the luxurious plushness of her lips, all of it was beyond even her most fanciful daydreams. Bethany wrapped her arms more firmly around Isabela's back, wishing the moment would never end.

Of course, it did end, and Bethany found herself gazing into Isabela's rich honey eyes. "What do you think? Any urge to slap me?"

Bethany laughed, a musical peal of delight. "I think we may need to do it again before I'm sure."

"Oh yes. For research purposes only, of course. Must be absolutely positive." Isabela grinned cheekily.

Bethany exhaled a chuckle through her nose, tossing her head gently. "Shut up and kiss me."

Amused surprise lit Isabela's eyes and she ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, the flash of pink sending a shiver down Bethany's spine. Then Isabela did as she was told. The press of her lips was firmer the second time, and Bethany returned the passion of the embrace, eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in Isabela. She smelled like the ocean, like breaking waves and wide open places, she felt like a warm hearth after getting drenched in a sudden rainstorm. The fingers of one of Isabela's hands tangled in Bethany's inky coiled curls, cradling the back of her head, as her other traced down Bethany's arm to take her hand, lacing their fingers. Bethany's legs wobbled and she clung to the other woman, pulling their bodies closer until she felt the caress of Isabela's breasts against her own, the sensation sending another shiver through her and threatening to make her knees give out entirely. Hesitantly, tauntingly, Isabela's tongue caressed her lips, and she parted them in an expectant sigh which was rewarded with the luxurious feeling of that velvet tongue against hers.

Her knees at last buckled, lips pulling away from Isabela's as she stumbled, and Isabela's hand tightened on hers to help keep her upright. "Woah there, careful. Let's sit down, yeah?" She gestured to the rows of pews and Bethany nodded sheepishly, allowing herself to be lead and sat down.

Bethany felt dizzy and euphoric, like being drunk, but the most pleasant drunk she'd ever experienced. She let her hand rest on Isabela's knee as they sat, a physical reminder that she _was_ there, as Isabela stroked her frizzy curls.

"What is going on with your hair?" Isabela poked playfully, curling ringlets around her fingers.

Bethany blushed, a mauve stain across her dark cheeks. "That bad?"

Isabela bit her lip, eyes swiveling to the side in an uncharacteristically sheepish expression. "It's not the best I've ever seen it, no." She continued curling individual spirals into her index finger. "I remember it being shinier. Are they feeding you well?"

Bethany flushed deeper and focused on the tips of her slippers poking from beneath her robe. "Regan or Mother always helped with my hair before. They knew just how to handle it. I guess I never paid attention, never thought I needed to." She shook her head, sudden emotion making her throat feel tight. "I watched the other girls, how they brushed their hair. It looks so beautiful when they do it, but mine…" she gestured limply at the fizzed mass of her curls.

"Is that how Regan brushed your hair?" Isabela asked curiously.

Bethany shook her head without looking up. "No... but everyone else—"

Isabela interrupted her, tucking one finger under her chin to tilt her head up. "You're not like everyone else, and thank goodness for that. You need to do what’s best for _you_ , Sweetness, not what’s best for all those other girls.”

Hearing it out loud made Bethany feel foolish and she tried to turn her eyes away again, but Isabela held her chin firmly. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at being on my own," she said softly.

Isabela smiled, eyes crinkling. "You just need to believe in yourself, Sweetness. Trust that heart of yours. It's a good one."

Looking into Isabela's eyes, Bethany found it easier to believe. Their color reminded her of the warm glow of the Chantry votives, and Bethany found herself drawn into them, her nervous energy melting away under the woman's loving gaze. Leaning forward to kiss her felt right and inevitable, like the tide coming in or spring returning after a long winter. As Isabela’s tongue explored her mouth, Bethany’s hand drifted over the soft curves of her body, feeling the swell of her hips, the firm plane of her stomach, and finally to the soft mounds of her breasts.

Isabela made a sound of surprise and caught Bethany's wrist, holding her hand still. "Beth," she whispered, voice low and serious. "I don't want you rushing anything. I just wanted to see you, to talk to you. I'm not expecting anything from you."

"I want to touch you," Bethany said, Isabela's presence making her bold. "And I want to feel you touch me."

Isabela studied her face, then slowly released her wrist. "Whatever you want, Sweetness. As long as it's what _you_ want."

Bethany ran her fingers over her breast again, turning her body enough to do the same with her opposite hand. She caressed the soft flesh through the silk robe, tentatively applying pressure, feeling the way they bounced back against her touch. Her own breasts were high and tight, but Isabela’s filled her hands and she cupped them reverently. She realized Isabela was looking at her with a doting, slightly amused smile curling her lips. Bethany flushed again, pulling her hands back. “Sorry, I—”

Isabela took her hands, pressing them back to her chest. "Don't apologize," she cut her off. "I said whatever you want, and I meant it." She caught Bethany's bottom lip between hers, gently encouraging the hesitant fumbling of her fingers. Bethany sighed into her mouth, eyes drifting closed as she explored Isabela with her hands and tongue.

Isabela's hands found Bethany's hips and she shuddered. Languidly, they rolled up Bethany's ribs and her back tensed in anticipation. It seemed an eternity passed as Isabela caressed over her sides and stomach with her firm, controlled fingers, so long Bethany thought she might go mad with want, then they reached her breasts and gently kneaded, thumbs brushing over her nipples and drawing them tight even through her robes. Bethany sighed again, a slip of vocalization in the breath turning it into a moan. She had never moaned before, she realized with a jolt. Even in the rare occasions that she dared to enhance her fantasizing with her fingers, she did so silently, with shallow breaths and tightly clamped lips. It felt good, though not as good as Isabela's hands on her. Bethany forgot what she was doing, so focused on the incredible sensation that her own hands stilled.

"Sweetness?" Isabela's lips were suddenly at her ear, hushed and intimate. "You alright?"

"Yes," Bethany breathed. "I'm good." Isabela's thumbs brushed over her nipples again and her neck arched back, a shiver slipping down her spine. Then Isabela's mouth was on her neck, tracing delicate kisses and brushes of tongue down from her ear. The neckline of her robe was too high, Bethany wanted to feel Isabela's mouth venture lower still, and she impetuously pulled at the tie around her waist. Her robe slipped loose, neckline drooping as the fabric relaxed, and Bethany felt air brush against the skin between her breasts.

Once again she felt Isabela hesitate, her fingers brushing freshly exposed flesh. "Beth—" she started, but Bethany pressed a finger to her lips, meeting her eyes.

"You don't have a ship, and aren't likely to have one soon," she said, feeling more resolute than she had since being brought to the tower. "And I very much doubt the Chantry getup is going to work a second time."

Bethany felt calm, controlled, and knew she wanted the woman beside her more than anything she had ever desired. Taking the edges of her robe in her hands, Bethany pulled the garment open, laying herself bare for Isabela to see. Under the robe she wore satin slippers, small clothes, and nothing else, her breasts small enough that a breast band was unnecessary. She watched, mouth suddenly dry, as Isabela's gaze traveled down her body.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Isabela confessed, caressing her cheek with two fingers, then her hands slid under the cloth of Bethany's robe to pull her close, massaging her bare back as they kissed. Isabela kissed her with the force of the sea she had once mastered and touched her like she was memorizing every nuance of her body.

Bethany's flush at Isabela's words was lost as her temperature spiked from her touch. With one hand cradling Bethany's neck and the other massaging one of her breasts, Isabela nudged her back until she was lying on the pew, head thumping softly against the hard wood. 

Isabela laughed, a girlish giggle, and sat up. "Oh, that can't be comfortable."

Before Bethany could protest, Isabela seized the bottom of her robe and pulled the vestments off over her head. She wore familiar, scant armor underneath and Bethany looked at her inquiringly as she folded the robe into a makeshift pillow. Isabela shrugged. "I wanted to be prepared in case this thing went sideways," she explained, then used one hand to lift Bethany's head and place the cloth between her and the pew as the prostrate girl chuckled. "There. Now, where were we?"

Bethany's breath caught in her throat. Isabela's eyes seemed to flicker with heat as she leaned over her, using her nose to caress her stomach, sternum, collar bone, and finally her neck. She caught Bethany's earlobe with her teeth, applying gentle pressure that pulled a quick gasp to the girl's lips. "You stop me the moment I do anything you don't like. Understand?" 

Her hot breath on Bethany's ear made her shiver and she nodded quickly. "I will," she promised breathlessly.

Isabela propped herself up to look down into Bethany's eyes with a doting smile, then her lips were on her again, slight brushes of teeth working their way back down the path she'd followed up until she wrapped her mouth around one of her breasts and Bethany gasped, eyes rolling back. Her breath came faster as Isabela's tongue flicked over her nipple, moaning softly as she sucked at her tender flesh.

Bethany couldn't think, her mind overrun with gasping pleasure. She felt feverish, heat growing between her legs and spreading throughout her body. She wriggled under Isabela's body, her back arching, hips grinding against Isabela's knee which was planted on the pew between her legs.

"Breathe," Isabela's velvet voice reminded her softly. "I've got you."

Bethany did as she was told, taking a gasping breath and swallowing hard to moisten her dry mouth. "Bela," she whined. "Please touch me."

Bethany felt foolish, lacking the proper vocabulary for the situation. She half expected Isabela to play coy or tease her, but she didn't. Cupping Bethany's face with one hand she tenderly kissed her lips. "Are you sure?"

Bethany nodded, biting her bottom lip. "Please," she begged, voice shaking with need. "I've wanted this, wanted _you_ , for so long. Please."

Isabela kissed her again, tongue probing gently and Bethany responding in kind, and slid her hand between their bodies to brush delicately along the waistband of her small clothes. Her fingers slid under the cloth, tracing over Bethany's skin with a featherlight touch that made her mewl.

Bethany curled her fingers into Isabela's raven curls, pulling their mouths together with ravenous hunger. She felt Isabela's fingers slip into the heat of her, barely brushing the bud from which her need radiated. She cried out, a sound that was only half moan, tears clinging to her eyelashes like dew.

"Wait," she gasped, body vibrating from the overload of sensation, clinging to Isabela like she was the only thing keeping her from falling into oblivion.

Isabela's hand was gone in an instant. "It's alright. You're alright, Sweetness. I've got you." She stroked Bethany's sweat-dampened hair. "I went too fast."

Bethany shook her head. "No, I want this, I just need a moment." Her voice was breathless, throat dry. "I've never…"

"I know." Isabela kissed her forehead. "It's alright. We can stop."

Blinking rapidly to clear her eyes, Bethany kissed the underside of Isabela's chin. "I don't want to stop. I don't _ever_ want to stop."

Isabela chuckled. "I understand." She nuzzled against Bethany's neck.

"I'm ready now." Bethany could breathe again. Releasing Isabela's hair she found her hand resting on her hip and slowly guided it back to between her legs. "I want to keep going."

Isabela nodded, smiling gently, and took Bethany's open lips with hers, fingers once again finding that heat beneath her small clothes.

Bethany moaned into her mouth as Isabela's firm touch teased her. One of her knees hooked around the woman's back and her hips bucked into her touch. Her back arched, ripping their mouths apart as Isabela applied more pressure, drawing circles with her finger that carried Bethany higher and higher until she felt that all that remained of her was the pulsing heat at her core and Isabela's dexterous fingers.

"Bela…" Bethany's voice was tight. "I'm…"

Isabela's arm curled around her neck, holding her tightly. "I know. I've got you."

Bethany pressed her face into Isabela's neck as she broke, moaning against her sweat-slick skin, clinging to her as every muscle in her body went rigid, pleasure pouring over her like molten fire. The feeling went on and on, and Bethany found herself torn between fear that it would never end, and wishing that it wouldn't.

It did, at last, come to an end, feeling fading to be replaced with a euphoric peace that made Bethany feel as if she was floating. Her vision cleared, or perhaps she opened her eyes though she did not remember closing them, and found Isabela looking down at her. "Are you alright, Sweetness?"

Bethany nodded, a sound like a purr, unfamiliar and unexpected, pouring from her throat. "Very alright.'

"Good." Isabela kissed her chastely, letting Bethany drape herself around her neck like a very satisfied shawl.

"It was better than I thought it would be," Bethany admitted shyly and Isabela laughed.

"It gets even better."

Bethany blinked at her in disbelief. How could it? She blushed slightly at the thought and leaned up to return Isabela's kiss. "I'm so glad it was with you, the first time I mean." 

"All the other times too I hope." Isabela smirked.

Bethany laughed. "All the times from here until eternity," she agreed. "I love you so much, Bela."

"Not as much as I love you," Isabela insisted, brushing Bethany's nose with hers. "You're my anchor and my North Star."

Bethany flushed at the endearment, though she didn't quite know what it meant. Something to do with boats, she was sure. 

Isabela would teach her someday.

Once she had a ship.

**Author's Note:**

> For Hez because it just felt right.


End file.
